What is the "Heart of Darkness"?

The heart of darkness is what lies in the core of all humankind. It is the inhibitions, the passions, the possessions, the inherent wills forced to be subdued. It is the overbearing, unconditional love that feeds on the hearts and souls of people who succumb to their beliefs, their delusions, who never rise again to struggle and create happiness. They fall into routine, a void. They mistake power and possession for contentment. The heart of darkness is the lies. In the end, the individual ups and downs mean nothing. Identity is only created by the individual, not intended by any one being. But perhaps, then, the heart of darkness is the truth.

I just feel like crying.

There's just so much to life and so much not to life.

I'm not making much sense in my head, and it's scaring me.

A musing written on Janurary 23, 2013...

I do not fit the stereotype, therefore I am no longer a choice.

I shouldn’t be your fucking choice; I should be your necessity. Working hard is what I do before, during, and after anything. I’m not a flat person. 

I try to create meaning, and sometimes it works, but more often than not I do not have a place where meaning matters most to me.

I am in a void. I am not good enough. 

The ones who tear people down, who rip confidences to shreds, who mutilate the esteems of many, they are the ones who thrive in this world. Their facades hide the problems within them, and in turn they see this falsity as a way to stomp on everyone around them. 

It is not enough to work hard, be good, stay within the lines, try your hardest. It is not enough, and it will never be. You are doomed to fail at something. Maybe it’s something you truly love, something you can’t live without. 

It is inherent that you will fail, and in that inevitability rises the self-doubt for everything else.

I need to be more consistent with this...

So writing-wise: I think my problem is I'm very lazy and unmotivated, and when the inner sloth decides to emerge into my physical being, I find it extremely difficult to concentrate on writing. Pilany sits unfinished, I've started two short stories but haven't finished them, and the poems I've written as of late are only meh. Yes, meh. I think I'm frightened of the future, so putting in the work constitutes whatever future I may or may not have writing-wise. I don't know where the future is going.

So meh. Life goes on. I'll figure something out. I'll get motivated. I want to finish Pilany by the end of the school year, but I need to step up my game...

Some Thoughts on Existence and Death

• April 3, 2012

            It is so sad to see people and to know that there is no hope, that we’re all going to die. Humans try so hard to immortalize themselves, but we are not immortal. We are not immortal. But why is it that we can’t bear the thought of leaving ourselves behind without some sort of remembrance, be it a token or a memory? A piece of writing. The thought of failure. Anything and everything.

            So why do we do it? Why must we be remembered? Why can’t we just accept that death means nonexistence, that it means nothing?

            Love.

            No matter who pisses us off, no matter who tears us down, there are people we love out there. It doesn’t matter what they have or haven’t done. The only thing that matters is that we love them, us, love every single thing on this planet.

            We want to immortalize ourselves, to be remembered because of love. We don’t want them to suffer. We want them to know that it’s okay. A clean cut doesn’t work, though. And this is no alternative.

            The pain needs to be there. The pain is so terrible and horrible but so beautiful as well. Because in that pain, we are all connected.

• April 11, 2012

            Is it better to know when you’re going to die or better to be in the dark? If I knew, if I even had the smallest warning, would I do what I should’ve been doing in the first place?

            There is no heaven. There is no hell. There is only here. Earth. North America. The United States of America. A small Publications classroom in Iowa. The entire world.

            The devils and the angels are here, and they can change so fast that it seems impossible that they are the same person, but they are. They are. Because the angels can betray you and the devils can save you, but only you can take it from there.

            Because we fall in love so easily, and maybe not even romantically. Because we are hurt, hurt, and hurt again, but we hurt others and wound them and kill them. Because too many of us think of life as a game, a horrible and sadistic and twisted game before you go to heaven. Or hell.

            But there is not heaven. There is no hell. There is only here. Because we are all hypocrites and bitches and sluts and douchebags and pieces of shit. And human. We are all human.

            We must remember this and accept death. We must walk into Death’s arms knowing that it’s all over, that the peaceful darkness is setting in. We all secretly desire it.

• May 3, 2012

            There are many things in the world that I would change. However, it’s not a matter of what I want to change: it’s a matter of what needs to be done in order to save the world from destruction.

            Minds need to connect in order to change things. One person cannot do it all, but one person can help start.

            The thing is, though, we are all different. Our views will never completely line up. So how do we even begin to go about fixing a world about to shatter?

            Take politics. There are opposing sides. Multiply that by billions of people, and that is where we are.

            Because the truth is that peace is a delusion, that there are too many people, people who will fight with each other. Through this, how can we get anything done?

            So can we fix this Earth? I don’t know how. 

• December 18, 2012

Death is not doom. So many people are afraid of death, even when they believe in some sort of afterlife. The afterlife is supposedly perfect, right? Eternal bliss with the ones you love.

I do not believe in the afterlife, but I don't see death as doom. It is a natural part of life, and it is foolish to try and evade it otherwise.

So how do I remain content thinking about my end?

Everything, the good and the bad, is so, so beautiful. And it is that loveliness that makes it tragic. These things won't happen again. You are alive now. This is all you have. It is because of that... that you must live.

Copyright © Lyzzy Redd. 2012. All rights reserved. 

Life and the Pursuit of Happiness... Kind of...

I'm trying. I'm really, really trying to be happy and stay on top of things and be the badass fearless girl I want to be. Sometimes, though... it gets harder with each passing day. The simplest things brings a lump in my throat, and sometimes it becomes too much to bear, and I sit there, absorbed in self-destructive, selfish thoughts. No one can pull me out of them. They can distract me, but I always seem to go back to killing myself in my mind. I don't know what's wrong with me. I really don't. I can't just hold everything and then randomly burst out into rants and fits and tears. But it's so hard with me to be straight with people. I don't know. I just don't.

I need to write; that's all I want to do with my life, and it seems like there are obstacles everywhere. I'm scared for the future. But I can't stay in this rotten life either. So it's either a leap forward or two steps back. I'm going to leap. I will.

Oh dear, it's been a while.

Back at 'em, I say.

You'll hear from me again soon.

~the Lyzzard